


Drunken Confessions and Misguided Trust

by peterparkerpanic



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, Ladybug and Chat Noir exist, Mari gets super drunk and confesses everything to Adrien, Mari is studying fashion and business, Maybe - Freeform, adrienette is endgame, basically two college students pining, but Adrien is also studying business, but not as main plot points, college kids in awkward situations, everyone is 21, it'll be there, there's a reveal... somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-09-27 22:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterparkerpanic/pseuds/peterparkerpanic
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a lightweight. For this exact reason, she spilled her guts about her unrequited love for Adrien to her unrequited love, Adrien. The morning after, she is freshly 21 and ready to face her fear and organise a time to talk to him about it - but it doesn't quite go as planned...Or, Adrien thinks Mari is pretty darn cute when she's tipsy.





	1. Hangovers and Movie-Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette wakes up to... a splitting headache, and a pretty blonde in her living room.

Marinette woke to the worst headache she had ever experienced. Some of it, of course, was to the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed the night before (it was her 21st birthday, she was allowed to get blackout drunk) but the other 80%, she believed, came from the very painful memories of what actually went down when she had no filter after three shots of vodka.

To recap; At 7pm, she and Alya were getting ready in Marinette’s room, going through her wardrobe to find the most nightclub-esque things that Marinette owned (which, surprisingly, was quite a lot – she’d gone through a phase.) By 8, they were ready, makeup on and heels waiting at the door. By 9, Nino had picked them up and driven to the club where most of her friends and former classmates were already waiting with a shot in hand, ready to drink to her arrival (they got one, she got one in each hand, and many more offered.) By nine thirty, she’d had enough to make her slightly dizzy – and thanks to Alya going off to flirt-dance with her long-term boyfriend, Nino, she was left to stumble into the one and only Adrien Agreste.

“Hey,” she remembered slurring, attempting a smile, which in hindsight probably looked more like a grimace. But Adrien – poor, sweet, sober Adrien – righted her in her heels and returned the grin with a showstopping one of his own.

“Are you having a good time?” He had to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the music, and she thought it was cute how the moving lights hit his hair.

“The best!” She said. “Do you want to dance?”

Adrien looked around. “I thought we already were.”

She turned around, to find herself face-to-face with a dancing crowd. They were in the middle of the party, Adrien’s arms were wrapped around her waist, the pleasant buzzing in her chest was only increasing with every thrum of the music, and she realized that the lights weren’t moving – it was Adrien, bopping his cute little head along to whatever song was playing.

It would probably be best to intervene the telling of this story at this particular moment, to inform you that at the tender age of fifteen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng fell irrevocably in love with Adrien Agreste. However, as the two of them aged, she realized that fifteen-year-old love is not the same as love-love; and that it was a crush, albeit a serious one. Still, she decided to put aside her feelings as best as she can and support him, as a friend, for whatever he decided to pursue. Thus, by age 18, their friendship had vastly improved, Marinette could get through whole sentences without tripping over her words, and she could also look at him and only feel the slightest of twangs somewhere deep, deep inside. By twenty, she could look back and laugh. She had two relationships under her belt at that point – neither particularly serious – but it shed some light on the whole ‘I’m in love’ situation.

Back to the story at hand; Marinette, a complete lightweight, dancing with the blonde she’d bee crushing on for a long time, proceeded to spill her guts to him about how, for three, almost four, agonising years, she had been completely in love with him.

Adrien, the sweetheart, had no obvious reaction to the information. He smiled and patted her back, leading her to the bar where he got her situated with a glass of water and a bar stool so she wouldn’t randomly fall over. He’d said something sweet like, “We can talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober,” or “Maybe we can discuss this later?” Either way, before she could respond a bunch of her girlfriends whisked her away where she proceeded to drink and dance all night, until she couldn’t stand anymore and was probably at the borderline of having alcohol poisoning.

From that point on, her memory is fuzzy. Maybe she passed out, and was deposited in the sweet sanctuary of her room in the forbidden hours of the early morning. Maybe she’d caught a cab in her drunken stupor, and had somehow managed to lug herself to bed, makeup and all.

But her shoes were off, and her makeup was nowhere to be seen on her pillow. She had also changed out of her dress, and was wearing a pyjama top and some shorts – not her usual choice, but comfortable none the less. Had she been conscious enough to get herself ready for bed.

“Tikki?” Marinette mumbled, rolling over to not face the wall. “What happened?”

Whilst looking for the small bed she’d made her kwami that usually rested on her nightstand, she instead came face-to-face with a glass of water, a painkiller, and a note.  
“Morning Mari!” It read in very distinct, curly handwriting.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I stayed over. Alya’s at Nino’s. Have this – it’ll make you feel better. And happy birthday!”

And then, at the bottom, it was signed – Adrien.

“Oh my god,” said Marinette, sitting up. Adrien was here?

“Marinette?” Said devil poked his head through the door. “I thought I heard you up. I made eggs a while ago – do you want me to put some in the microwave for you?”

Even though her stomach twisted at the thought of eating anything, Marinette found herself nodding in some strange stupor. He offered a smile, backing out of the room and closing the door softly.

“Tikki?” Mari hissed, quieter this time to avoid Adrien’s ears. “Are you here?”

Said kwami flew out from under her bed, giving her a look. “You didn’t tell me Adrien was coming back with you! I had to hide all night long just in case he came in.”

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly, pushing her covers away from her legs and swinging them over the side of her bed, bracing to stand up. “To be honest, I didn’t even know he knew where I lived. He’s never been here before.”

It was true – in the almost-three years since they graduated from College Francoise-Dupont, she’d made somewhat of a living from an online boutique in which she made custom clothing and tailored for people. At first, it was slow – but Alya was a whiz with social media, and after about a month, Marinette was getting enough traffic and then some. They’d bought an apartment together on Alya’s 19th birthday, when she found out she was going to journalism school near where Mari was searching for her ‘dream home.’  
It was a small, two-bedroom apartment, but it was dreamy enough for two college students, apparently.

Deciding that there was probably a lot of Alya’s meddling involved in this mess, Marinette sighed as she got up and took the pill with the glass of water Adrien had generously left on her nightstand. Her hair, she’d bet, was probably a mess away from the style she’d had it in last night; and whilst she didn’t have time to shower before breakfast was served, she could do something about it – and throw on some proper clothes.

Several minutes later, she emerged from her room to see a strangely domestic sight – Adrien, setting the table for two, in one of Alya’s ladybug-themed aprons. Alya had demanded them to be sold on the boutique – and, as it turned out, lots of people liked wearing Ladybug and Chat Noir merchandise.

Adrien paused his movements, as if sensing her eyes on him. “Oh, hey!” He said with a grin. “The eggs will just be a minute. Take a seat.”

She obliged, watching as he manned the kitchen like he lived here. Then again, Adrien had probably been cooking for himself for such a long time, any kitchen was somewhere he felt at home.

Adrien served her scrambled eggs with toast, and she offered him a thankful grin as he took the seat on the opposite side of the table, coffee in hand. He took a large gulp, before holding out the cup to her.

She took a large gulp herself. Two sugars, and enough milk to dilate the coffee an almost caramel colour. Just the way she liked it.

Mari handed the cup back, before beginning to eat. She didn’t have much of an appetite – but with Adrien’s encouraging gaze as he sipped his coffee, she managed to stomach half of it before pushing the plate away from her.

“So,” Adrien begun as soon as she’d finished, slumping into her seat and squinting her eyes slightly for reprieve from the sunlight that filtered through the windows and right onto her face, causing the droning ache behind her temples to worsen. “What do you want to do today?”

“I have to study for a bit, and work on the boutique.”

“Oh.” Marinette watched as the blonde’s face fell slightly. “Do you want me to leave, so you can concentrate?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “No!” She said suddenly, provoking the blonde to smile again. “We could… watch a movie here, if you don’t mind the fact that I’ll be sewing the entire time.”

“I don’t mind,” Adrien smiled as if he were sunshine itself. He picked himself up, and Marinette could only watch as he took her plate to the kitchen, scraping what was left of her food onto a tray and depositing it in the fridge. “I don’t really have anything to do today – maybe we could study together later?”

A quick update on the situation; Mari had taken fashion design at university, but she had also opted for a business course, seeing as she’d be running things about her fashion design. Adrien was taking business, too – and out of pure coincidence, they landed in the same class, at the same university. Fun, right?

Mari stood slowly, blood rushing to her head, and made it to the sofa a mere several feet away, sinking into the cushions. Adrien watched from across the room in the kitchen section, an amused smile on his face as he washed her plate.

She reached for the remote, scrolling mindlessly through channels. “What do you want to watch?”

“A comedy?” Adrien walked over and sat next to her, just close enough that their thighs were touching. Mari stopped her scrolling momentarily, suddenly hyper-aware of the spot.

Thank god she’d changed out of those pyjama shorts, or her skin would be burning a lot more than it was right now.

“Mari?” Adrien asked. “I can look through the movies, if you want to get your sewing stuff set up.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Right. Do you want a cookie?”

Standing, she missed Adrien’s confused tilt of his head as he watched her make her way to the fridge rather than her bedroom, where her sewing stuff was. “Sorry?” He asked, putting down the remote as she opened the fridge.

A moment later, Marinette pulled out a tray full of chocolate chip cookies, placing one into her pocket as sneakily as she could for Tikki. “I made them yesterday afternoon. Do you want some? We can snack on them whilst watching the movie.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” She smiled at him, passing the tray over as she made her way to her room. Adrien watched her go, a strange sort of smile on his face.

“Tikki?” Marinette asked quietly, pulling out the cookie from her pocket. The kwami flew out of her hiding place. “I brought you a cookie?”

Tikki took it gratefully. “Thank you! Is Adrien still here?”

“Yeah – I think he’s spending the day here. Maybe I should text Alya, ask her about her plans with Nino?”

Tikki nods, taking a large bite out of the cookie, and Marinette goes to her bedside table, where her phone lies, fully charged (did Adrien plug it in for her?) She sent Alya a quick text, before placing her phone down.

**Mari: Adrien is here??? Also, are you coming home anytime soon?**

After not even a minute, in which Marinette has scooped up her fabric and her sewing kit, the screen lights up with a response.

**Alya: It’s a long weekend! I plan to stay with Nino for all of it. You should keep Adrien busy, if you get what I mean ;)**

Despite herself, Mari felt a blush light up her cheeks, and she quickly turned off the phone, walking through to the living room to see Adrien had decided on a Disney movie.

“No comedy?” She asked, sinking into the sofa right next to him and beginning to organise the fabric.

“Well, I remembered you said you loved Disney – and I’ve never seen this one, so I figured…”

She looked up to see that the movie he’d chosen was Tangled. “You’ve never seen it?”

“Nope. Never got the chance.”

“Well, it’s a good choice, and I’d be honoured to take your Disney virginity.”

Adrien paused his action of pressing play, drawing back to raise an eyebrow at her. “My what?”

If possible, Marinette’s cheeks flared up even more – and she felt just about ready to sink through the floor into the depths of hell, forever. “You heard me,” she mumbled, pretending to busy herself with sewing as an excuse to look away from him.

Adrien chuckled, pressing play. Soon enough, the very familiar songs started up, and though Marinette wasn’t watching the screen, instead making small, precise stitches that took a hell of a lot longer than a sewing machine but were worth it to spend time with it, she found herself humming along and, at times, quoting the movie. Adrien watched with an intense vigour, not taking his eyes off the screen even whilst he reached for a cookie until the credits rolled, almost two hours later.

“Did you enjoy it?” Marinette asked when Adrien let out a whoosh of breath, sinking back to the sofa from his tense position leaning towards the TV. He’d been… enthralled, was the word. Captivated.

“I did! It was really good – and all the music was great. And it was animated so well!”

“I know right? Once I watched Mulan, and then Tangled straight after – and they’re so different, even though it’s only been 18 years!”

“Mulan?” Adrien asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. Marinette’s jaw dropped.

“You haven’t seen Mulan?” She half-screeched. He shook his head. “Do you have any plans today?”

“…not that I know of.”

“We’re watching Mulan. Give me a minute – I finished this dress, so I should probably get some other project to work on.”

“Can I see?” He asked, and she obliged, standing up and holding the dress up to herself as if she were considering buying it.

“What do you think? I made it for a client – special request.”

“I think it’s beautiful, Marinette. You’re really talented.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said with a somewhat goofy smile. “Find Mulan on the TV? I have a couple of suits that need tailoring.”

And so, for the next several hours, Marinette shared her almost scary, extensive knowledge of Disney movies with Adrien, who seemed very happy to be there, with her, and learn. At one point during Hercules, she felt herself drift off – right onto Adrien’s shoulder – but he already had more movie recommendations to get him through, and he found that he didn’t particularly mind the new warmth on his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! First chapter, done and dusted. Don't forget to leave kudos if you enjoyed!


	2. Protection Squads and Designated Drivers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien likes to consider himself a pretty good caretaker.

Adrien Agreste really liked to consider himself as a put-together kind of person. Thanks to his upbringing, he functioned best with a well set-out planner, organising what he was doing day-by-day. He’d also been taught from a very young age how to maintain an image to the public (even though he didn’t exactly model as much anymore, he still kept up his general polite-ness.) Besides, if he had everything he needed to do written down, when Chat Noir needed to make an appearance, making up for lost time was so much easier knowing exactly what he’d missed.

But he had many spontaneous friends, apparently – and so, for a three-day-weekend that just happened to fall right after Marinette’s birthday, he was sent on a whirlwind of party-all-night-Friday, and chill all weekend at said birthday girl’s apartment, apparently.

Last night was very clear in Adrien’s mind; he hadn’t had a drop to drink, because Ladybug had previously told him that she was planning on getting ceremoniously drunk to celebrate some unknown event in her personal life, and whilst the suit did wonders, it probably wouldn’t get her standing straight. So, he’d hung with Nino, Luka and Nathaniel for a while, before Nathaniel was snatched up by Marc, Nino went to dance with Alya, and Luka went to get a drink (things were still awkward between them since he’d broken up with Mari, but at least there wasn’t any bad blood.)

He needed to find Marinette – he’d got her a gift (a necklace that somewhat mirrored the lucky charm she’d given him all those years ago) and it was just sitting in his jeans pocket. So, he’d decided he should begin at the bar. But said girl, very suddenly, crashed right into his arms, giggling about something to herself and ending the search before it had even begun.

“Mari?” He asked, and her blue eyes widened adorably as she tried to stand up fully, and failed – falling back into her arms, and leaving him to grip her arms and try and keep her steady in this crowded nightclub.

“Hey,” she slurred, smiling at him, and – god forbid, something in his heart picked up suddenly, causing him to return her lazy grin with a full one of his own.

“Are you having a good time?” He had to yell slightly, because there was a large crowd dancing around them to mostly the bass of a music that made his entire body vibrate.

Marinette didn’t seem to notice this, hands slowly travelling up his biceps (which he didn’t mind – he told himself it was naturally where her hands landed now that he was holding her up, but neither of them believed that much.)

“The best!” She said back, which caused her to giggle softly. Adrien’s heart melted softly. “Do you want to dance?”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed. Sure, she was drunk – but was she that drunk? “I thought we already were,” he responded.

Confused, Mari’s head turned, and she surveyed the moving bodies around them. After a stretched-out moment, something behind her eyes lit up in recognition, and she was back to giggling, hands finally settling on his shoulders and causing him to adjust his grip, pulling her slightly closer to him.

Was Marinette always this small? It awakened some sort of protective streak in his heart; plus, the fact that her inhibitions were far too low for her to process a lot.

“You know, Adrien,” she began, looking straight into his eyes. He gulped at the intensity. “You are beautiful.”

…What?

Adrien let out a soft laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Did you know,” she had to raise her voice to be heard over the music, “that in school I always had a crush on you? From the beginning, really. I probably still have that umbrella you gave me.”

“Yeah?” He smiled. “You kept it?”

“Of course I did. I was in love with you – for, like, three years of my life. Almost four, really.”

He gulped, again. Love? “What changed?”

“I grew up a bit, I guess.” One of her hands left his shoulder to gesture around them, and Adrien pretended he didn’t miss the contact. “Though, obviously, not that much. We stopped going to school together, and guys were confessing their love for me – and I figured you were just a crush, so I should get over you. And I did – sort of.”

“Sort of?” Adrien urged. “What do you mean, sort of?”

Instead of responding, Marinette’s features turned into a slight frown. “I don’t feel so good. I might be sick.”

“Woah,” Adrien said, holding her close. He wanted to know – what did she mean by ‘sort of’? Did she still harbour feelings for him?

But Marinette’s face was getting greener by the second, and so, somewhat reluctantly, he led her to the bar, and got her situated with a glass of tap water. From across the bar, Luka shot him a look.

Adrien shot one right back. Even if Luka and Marinette were still friends, what was his business being overprotective like that? Adrien had never done anything – would never do anything, to cause Marinette any harm. He needed to back off.

Marinette, on the other hand, although better, had somehow managed to almost fall out of her chair twice in the past five minutes. She’d finished the water, and pushed away the second glass, stating that she wasn’t thirsty. Then she’d made a demand that she wanted to dance, or do something he couldn’t quite understand on the dance floor.

Juleka was the first to find the pair of them. As always, Rose was shortly on her tail, then Alya – and soon a group of her school friends were standing in the very close proximity, buzzing with the significantly smaller amount of alcohol they’d all drunk in comparison to Mari. But she got up, declaring that she wanted to dance all night, and they’d all cheered before disappearing from his sight.

But then because Alya was with Marinette, Nino was free to dance, and so the rest of Adrien’s evening was spent with him (or with Kim, who was desperately trying to get Max a date from the many other people in the club. He even offered his services to Adrien – who politely declined.)

But then it was somewhere just past 1 in the morning, and the crowd was slowly starting to filter down, and Adrien was still sipping on the diet coke he’d bought two hours ago (now lukewarm, to his displeasure.) Everyone else, it seemed, were drunk off their asses.

“Adrien?” Alya walked towards him. “Do you want to… take Mari home?”

“What?” He asked.

“I can give you the address. I’m staying with Nino, so if you want some alone time…” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Why would I-“

“Oh, come on! You have to admit, she is beautiful-“ Alya paused, and they both looked over to said girl, who was a moment away from collapsing onto the sidewalk, eyes half-closed. “-And she likes you! If not, then do it for me? You can see the apartment.”

Adrien paused for a moment, to think. Marinette shouldn’t be home alone – what if she died or something with nobody to help her? Plus, it did kind of give him an excuse to hang out with her tomorrow…

“Okay. What’s the address?”

Alya pulled out a piece of paper as if she’d been expecting this outcome, handing it to him with a smirk. “Have fun. But not too much fun. She’s still super drunk, so guard her with your life, and don’t trust half the stuff she says. There’s a key in her purse.”

Adrien nodded, and proceeded to grab one of Marinette’s arms and put it over his shoulder, having to crouch to her level to get her to walk forwards.

“Adrien,” she slurred, barely putting one foot in front of another. “Do you want to hear a joke?”

“Okay,” he said, more focussed on the pavement ahead of them.

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

“I don’t know, why?”

Marinette was silent for a while. “Shoot, I don’t remember the answer to that one.”

Adrien let out a soft chuckle. Mari pouted.

“Don’t laugh yet! Let me tell you another one.” She slurred. “Okay… what do an atheist, an insomniac and a dyslexic have in common?”

“I don’t know.”

“They… they lie awake at night, thinking ‘is there really a dog?’”

Before Adrien could process, Marinette was laughing softly at herself, causing them to come to a stop on their already tiny journey. They must’ve travelled… ten feet?

Adrien’s brain finally wrapped around the joke – God, ha – and he began chuckling softly. Marinette’s features lit up.

“Did you like that one?” She asked. “I have more.”

“Listen, Mari… do you mind if I pick you up?” He asked. She shook her head, and his free arm that wasn’t already holding her arm around his neck in place, went to the back of her knees, and he pulled her up, resting her head on his shoulder. He began to walk, much faster.

“Wait! I have another joke… are you ready?”

“I am,” Adrien answered, smiling.

“Don’t you just hate it when people answer their own questions? Because I do.”

Adrien chuckled, softly. “That was a good one.”

They reached the car, and Adrien went around the side, opening the passenger door and softly depositing Marinette in the seat. “Can you put your own seatbelt on?”

He received a mumble in response – which he took as a no. Sighing, Adrien grabbed her seatbelt, reaching awkwardly over her to put it on, and trying not to notice the fact that he could feel her breath on his neck, or that her hair smelt like strawberries, or that he was eye-level with a certain something on her body that she probably wouldn’t want him looking at.

But it was done quickly, and Adrien hurried himself into getting in the car, and typing the address into google maps.

The car ride to her apartment was silent, save for Mari’s soft, even breathing. When they got there, Adrien parked and lifted her still-sleeping form out of the car and into the apartment building.

The elevator ride was uneventful, and so was the getting-out-her-keys-from-her-purse part, but as soon as he was in the apartment, he was faced with a dilemma.

Which bedroom was hers? And didn’t she need to get herself ready for bed?

He sighed, opening both doors that he saw. One had a pink-ish theme, the other had white walls with small explosions of colour in the furniture.

In the pink room, there was a sewing machine. Bingo!

Placing Marinette down on her bed, he began to rifle through her drawers for pyjamas. Eventually coming across a set, he went to sit back down on her bed. “Mari?” He tried, shaking her shoulder softly. “Marinette? You need to get ready for bed.”

She rolled over in her sleep, as if in defiance.

“Okay. This will be easy. She’s wearing a dress; there will be a zip. Just… don’t look.”

He pulled her shorts up her body, underneath the dress first. Halfway there. Then he found a zip, and pulled it down, revealing her very bare back to him. Shit. If he took her dress off now, he’d see something she didn’t want him to. He could just… close his eyes?

But then what if he touched something… there?

Sighing, Adrien rolled Mari onto her back, merely pushing the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, so her back was fully exposed, but her front was not. He then proceeded to slide on her top, before pulling the dress down from under it, abandoning the thing at the edge of her bed.

Wait. She was still wearing makeup.

Leaving Marinette on her side (yay health class!) he went into the bathroom, finding her makeup wipes pretty quickly. But when he went back into Mari’s bedroom, she’d rolled over to face the wall.

One tug at her shoulder. A half-asleep groan in response.

Another tug. Slight give, but he still couldn’t see her face.

Another tug and she rolled onto her back, still fast asleep. He sighed, making quick work of removing her eyeshadow and foundation, taking extra care around her eyes. When he was done, the wipe was deposited, and he was left with the Marinette that looked like she had all those years ago, in Francoise-Dupont.

There was a natural blush in her cheeks, carrying to her tiny nose, where it was accompanied by constellations of freckles. Even in her sleep, she was beautiful.

And that was super creepy. Thinking how pretty a sleeping girl was? Grade-A sketchy.

Rolling her onto her side again, Adrien stood for a moment, at the end of her bed. The protective instinct in his heart kicked back in, and something in him urged to reach out and just tuck that small piece of hair behind her ear. Instead, he forced himself out of her room, shutting the door as quietly as humanly possible.

There were already spare sheets set up on the couch – it seemed Alya had prepared for someone to be over, if not him. Adrien readied himself for bed quickly, borrowing their toothpaste and using his finger, and washing his face with one of the girl’s strawberry-scented facewash. Soon, he was on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

A tiny part of him was warning him about Chat Noir, and the dangers of sleeping somewhere you didn’t recognise properly – how would he find out about an akuma if he didn’t have Wi-Fi to go on the Ladyblog? But a much larger part of him was weirdly content here, on Marinette’s couch, staring up at the ceiling.

And so, he shut his eyes, and let the sleep come quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter done, and Adrien's thoughts have been discovered. Now I'm going to be honest - this chapter was exactly a week after the last one, and I'm going to try my best to stick to that schedule - but sometimes writing is hard, or personal stuff happens. If a chapter is late, it's late! If not (and I'll try to avoid it), updates every Sunday. Put it in your calendar. And don't forget to leave kudos!


	3. Studying and Stealth Missions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some studying is done, some work is praised, and Adrien has a strange love for... camembert?

Marinette woke up, and it was dark outside. That piece of information wasn’t much of a shock, considering it was October, and the sun set early and rose late; but she’d closed her eyes, and a blink later a different movie was playing, and the curtains didn’t display what was usually a pretty view of a sunlit community park.

She shifted, and her pillow seemed to tense slightly. That was strange. It had been so comfy before…

“Marinette?” Adrien asked, and her sleepy brain struggled to compute. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” she answered, slowly realizing what was happening. It was evening – which meant it had been a couple of hours – and her head was resting on the very warn shoulder of Adrien Agreste himself, who had sat for said amount of time and watched movies, to let her sleep.

Dear God. Had she been drooling?

“Good,” Adrien laughed softly, “because I really need to use the bathroom. Do you mind?”

“Oh, no.” She pulled her head off his shoulder. Her cheek was warm. There was probably a red mark. “It’s the third door down there.”

“Oh, I know,” he commented, standing and stretching, giving Marinette a one-on-one view of his midriff where his shirt rode up. The rest of her face turned red accordingly. “I got pretty acquainted with it last night.”

She nodded. Wait, what?

Adrien looked at her face and laughed softly. “I’ll explain when I’m back. And maybe we could do some studying?”

She nodded, dumbfounded, and could only watch as he disappeared behind the door.

Okay. Perspective: she was now in pyjamas, with no makeup, probably smelling a bit funny, with the guy she’d loved and still kind of liked here to witness all of it. Her breath was probably rancid, and when she got hungover her eyes got kind of puffy, so she usually had to put spoons in the freezer for the morning after, as well as her trusty ginger tea, because she’d read on google that it cured hangovers.

She didn’t feel as much like shit as she did earlier, though. That had to be a good sign.

“Thank you for pausing the movie,” Adrien sauntered back in, taking a seat close to her and resting his arm over the back of the sofa. “I’ve seen three, now – but I have to say, this one is my favourite. Father made me study Greek mythology as a child for a little while, and the way they portray everything is so clever.”

Marinette looked to the TV – Hercules. One of her personal favourites, too.

“Too bad it’s almost over. I think you missed all the songs. Disney movies really don’t like songs at the end, from the ones I’ve seen.”

“No, this one has a conclusion song.” She said softly. “It’s not as good as Zero to Hero, but it’s there.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled. “Well, we can see, and then we should probably do some of the work we said we were going to. Business school is hard enough as it is.”

Marinette nodded, pressing play. The movie seemed to only have ten or so minutes left, from where they were in the plot – but ten minutes, apparently, was a long time when you were focussing on the heat of someone’s arm skimming the back of your neck, or the press of their knee into your leg.

“Mari?” Adrien asked. “You seem tense. Was the ending song really that bad?”

“No,” she brushed him off, taking the chance to stand up swiftly. “I’m just hungry.”

“Oh.” He stood as well, and she was back to craning her neck to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to make you something?”

“No!” She said hurriedly. “I mean… no. You made breakfast; I can make lunch.”

“Dinner.”

Her eyes widened, diverting to the clock on her wall. Half past five, it read.

“Dinner, then. I can make it. You focus on studying, and I’ll join you in ten minutes.”

“Can I borrow your textbooks?” He asked, and she fought the urge to facepalm. Of course, he needed her textbooks. He hadn’t rocked up to her party yesterday with a night bag packed for the long weekend.

She gestured to where they sat in a surprisingly neat pile on the kitchen table, and he flicked one open to the parts they were currently studying, and expected to know. She got busy preparing a meal for the two of them.

“When was the last time you touched these?” He asked, picking up the book on the top and flicking through it.

“A week ago, maybe? I’ve been meaning to study – it’s just that with all the fashion design stuff… there’s a show, at the end of the semester, and we’re working with models, and they have such a wacko schedule…”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Adrien chuckled. “I never studied modelling in a university, but my schedule was pretty tight. At least you have me to study with.”

Marinette smiled. “That I do. Is it okay if I make a pie? Cooking isn’t really my forte, but I can bake like a champ.”

“A pie for dinner?” Adrien asked. “I’ve already had your cookies for lunch.”

“Well, yeah – but it’ll be savoury. I can make stuffing to put inside it. Or, like, a mushroom sauce, if you’re not in the mood for meat.”

Adrien smiled. “Either sounds great.”

Marinette got to work – prepping the dough, making the filling, and answering the questions Adrien asked from the textbook in between his reading. Business was, weirdly, a hell of a lot of statistics you just had to learn (or at least it was for this part of the course.) Marinette thanked her lucky stars that they weren’t doing accounting yet – math wasn’t her strong point.

By the time the pie was in the oven, they still had somewhat of an hour to work. Adrien had already begun setting up flashcards with Mari’s extensive art resources, and they decided to move into her room, so that she could continue sewing whilst revising, and get both subjects knocked out in one run.

“What is an inferential statistic?” Adrien asked, flipping over the flashcard to read the answer.

“Umm… where you get an inference about a population from a sample?”

“Yeah, basically,” Adrien smiled. “That was good. Okay, what are the problems with inferential statistics?”

Marinette continued answering questions as her sewing machine did half her work for her; and she was surprised at how many she got right. Soon enough, they’d made their way through the flashcards, and Adrien was stood up, looking through Mari’s work.

“What is all of this?” He asked, walking through the few mannequins she had set up in the corner of her room.

“Oh, well, you know how I was saying that we had a fashion show at the end of the term?”

Adrien nodded.

“Well, the design brief was ‘elements’, and we had to make five to eight pieces on it – so I did water, for ballgowns and suits. My goal is eight, but if I end up with six, I’d still be happy.”

He scanned the incomplete outfits. “Do you have sketches?”

“Oh, of course!” She stood from the sewing machine, rushing to her sketchbook and opening it to the page. “Here.”

Mari could only watch in anticipation as he looked slowly through the designs, one by one. Each time he flicked the page, her nerves could only increase tenfold. And it didn’t really help that Adrien Agreste had a killer poker face.

When he finally shut the book, a millennium had passed in her head. “Well?” Mari’s voice was weak; worried about some form of rejection, she supposed. Did he not like her designs?

“They’re really beautiful,” he said honestly. “I wish I had some of your artistic ability. You’re so talented.”

“Oh,” she smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad you like them.”

He nodded. “Hey, can students come to the fashion show? It’d be cool to see all of this when it’s finished.”

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed. “I mean… probably? But you’d have to sit through twenty other presentations, too. And it’s a bit of a strange situation, because I think it’s one walk and a photoshoot or something, so-“

“Mari,” he cut her off with a smile. “I don’t mind sitting through all of that. For you, it’s worth it.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she fought the urge to wring her hands behind her back as a nervous habit her friends had surely figured out years ago. But Adrien’s gaze was so intense, and so unbelievably green…

The alarm on the oven began beeping, and the pair jumped apart – faces slightly closer than they remembered. “The pie,” Marinette mumbled, trying to get some sort of a hold on her thoughts. “It’s time to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” Adrien said in a way that probably wasn’t meant to be taken as… provocatively as her brain had made it.

Turning to get to the kitchen and hide her still-burning cheeks, Mari worked through muscle memory, vaguely gesturing for Adrien to take a seat as she set the table and brought the still-steaming pastry through. Cutting it open, she served him first, before taking a piece for herself.

They both ate in silence, for a while. Not quite comfortable – but not awkward, either. Marinette was fighting the urge to look up at Adrien, and instead focussing on eating slowly.

“Mari?” Adrien was first to break the silence. “I love the pie. It’s really good.”

“Oh… thank you.”

Adrien seemed to hesitate. “Listen… in the least weird way possible, do you have any cheese?”

Mari looked up, meeting his eyes. “What?”

“Cheese. Any type will do. It’s just… even though I don’t model, father had me on a weird… diet, where I had to have cheese once a day at least. Something about metabolism? And now I’m stuck with the habit, and I get all antsy if I don’t have any.”

She smiled at him, getting up. “I’m no scientist, but that doesn’t sound like the worst diet. I should have something…”

Opening her fridge, she spotted a half a wheel of camembert, from one of her cooking experiments, probably. “Is camembert good?” She asked as she took it out, heading back to the table.

“Yup.” Adrien’s voice was weirdly weak. “That’s… my favourite.”

“Oh, great.” She smiled, handing it over. He began to unwrap it, taking the smallest amount and putting it out.

“Wow,” his mouth twisted into a smile that looked suspiciously like a grimace. “I forgot how… good camembert is.”

Mari smiled. “I’m glad someone likes it. Listen, I’m going to go to the bathroom, okay?”

He nodded, and she stood, walking swiftly to her ensuite bathroom and locking the door.

Adrien was acting weird. Did he not like her cooking? Did she give him mouldy cheese?

“Have I done something wrong, Tikki?” She whispered softly, as the kwami flew up to eye-level.

“No!” She reassured. “Maybe Adrien’s nervous too.”

Marinette laughed un-humorously. “And why would he be nervous?”

“Because he likes you – and from what I’ve gathered of last night, he knows fully well that you like him back.”

Marinette blanched. “Shit.” She began. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I forgot about that. Why hasn’t he brought it up yet?”

“Maybe he thinks you don’t remember? Maybe he doesn’t want to be awkward?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t want it to be awkward because he’ll be rejecting me. Oh my god. I am never drinking again.”

Tikki scoffed. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“Tikki!” Marinette pouted. “I’m going through a serious crisis!”

“If it’s really bothering you, bring it up. Explain. You’ve already done the damage – how much worse can it get?”

“Okay,” Marinette took a deep breath. “It’ll be easy. I’ll just tell him it was the alcohol talking or something.”

“Oh, and Marinette?” Tikki asked. “Can you get me a cookie?”

“Yes, of course! You must be starving. I’ll see what I can do.”

Tikki smiled. “Good luck, Marinette.”

Mari smiled at her kwami. “Alright,” she said, mostly to herself. “Time to face the thunder.”

When she re-emerged from her bedroom, Adrien’s plate was clean, and the camembert was gone. “Wow,” she smiled. “You really were hungry.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Thank you for making this. It was great. But, uh, I should probably go home.”

“Really?” Marinette was unable to stop the grimace from reaching her features if she tried. “Because I thought you lived with Nino – and he and Alya get really loud when they’re… together.”

Adrien’s face very quickly turned white, and Marinette’s changed to resemble the bright colour of her wallpaper. “I mean-“ she started.

“I understand.” He said with a weak smile. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I slept in these clothes, and they’re kind of smelly, you know?”

“I could always wash them, if you want to avoid your apartment. Or we could sneak in for ten minutes, get your stuff. Like a recon mission, or something.”

A smile began to bloom on Adrien’s face. “That sounds like the more fun option. A recon mission?”

“Well, yeah. Get your clothes, toothbrush, and we’re out. Ten minutes tops, and you avoid having to try and sleep over all their… whatever it is.”

Adrien nodded. “When do we go?”

No less than a half hour later, and Marinette had changed into a black top and had lent Adrien a black cap to cover his hair. They were hiding across the street from the apartment building, watching it stealthily.

“Nino and Alya are on the first floor. You see that window?” Adrien pointed.

“What about it. You want to climb up there?”

Adrien shrugged.

“Good luck with that,” said Marinette. “Last time I checked, you weren’t Chat Noir. We’ll take the front door. Just need to be… extra stealthy.”

Adrien looked at her, and suddenly they were walking across the street stealthily, and entering the building stealthily, and taking the stairs, not the elevator – just to be stealthy.

“Stealthy doesn’t sound like a word anymore,” Adrien whispered stealthily as they made their way down the corridor to the apartment.

Marinette shushed him as they reached the apartment, and Adrien slotted in the key, turning it slowly.

When the door opened, they were greeted by Nino’s soft humming and the smell of something cooking. Adrien went in first, followed by Marinette, and they shut the door softly.

It appeared Nino was in the kitchen. Alya was nowhere to be seen.

The two of them crept through the living room, and into Adrien’s room. There, Marinette was quick to take a look around as Adrien began packing up his stuff.

As Ladybug, she’d been in Adrien’s room before – but it always gave off the vibe that it wasn’t truly how he would’ve decorated. Now, it suited him perfectly. The walls were a soft green, and there were shelves upon shelves of books, organised in colour order. There were two doors leading away; one was to a bathroom, the other, Marinette found out as Adrien darted inside, a walk-in wardrobe that was also organised to perfection.

She wished she was naturally this neat. Everything she did was a mess.

Adrien finished packing quickly, and the two were about to make a stealthy exit when the smoke alarm began blaring, followed by a panicked shriek from Nino.

It took a milli-second of a shared look before Marinette and Adrien burst out laughing, trying to contain the noise and stay unnoticed.

But then, Alya made her big debut. “Babe!” She called, footsteps pattering from Nino’s room into the kitchen. “Did you burn the food again?”

“I really thought I could make it!” said Nino disappointedly.

“Yeah, well you said that about the other meals you tried to make. Seriously, babe, I don’t mind cooking.”

“I know,” Nino’s voice dropped, and a few murmurs of conversation were heard before it cut off completely. Eww. They were probably kissing.

“We should go,” whispered Adrien. They carefully tiptoed back through the apartment, past the now-open kitchen, through the living room, and out the front door.

The silence lasted maybe two minutes – long enough for them to take the elevator back down, leave the building and walk the surprisingly short distance between Adrien’s house and Marinette’s – before they cheered their way down the last parts of the street.

“That was awesome!” Adrien yelled. “I could totally be a spy!”

“And I did nothing, but it was great!” Marinette giggled softly. Adrien grinned; and then out of nowhere she was being lifted off the ground in a bear hug by Adrien, and she couldn’t help thinking ‘_of course he doesn’t smell, he’s perfect_.’

Adrien put her down swiftly, seemingly realizing what he’d just done, and once again it was awkward. “Sorry,” he said.

“No, it’s okay. It was in the moment.”

He nodded. “Hey, listen, Marinette.”

She looked up at him expectantly. “What is it?”

“We should probably talk.”

“About what?”

“What you said to me at your party? I don’t know if you remember, but you were pretty drunk, so… if you don’t, I can explain.”

“No, I think I remember.” She admitted. “And you’re right. Let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three, a whole day early! Also, please note; whilst I have tried my hand at research, I've never been to fashion or business school (I am, unfortunately, not an art prodigy like Marinette, and business is just... a no-no.) But I am trying my hand at that writing thing, if you hadn't noticed - and comments about anything at all would be greatly appreciated!  
I'm also a slut for kudos, so if you enjoyed, don't forget to leave those too!


	4. Grown-Up Conversations and Strange Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Adrien have a heart-to-heart that doesn't end the way they planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who decided to make notes at the beginning AND the end because notes are fun to write? (hint: you're reading the story she wrote right now)

They entered the apartment quietly, the buzzing excitement from several minutes ago somehow lost. Marinette led the way, and Adrien could practically hear her mind buzzing in the same way he had observed back in college.

He dropped his bag off by the couch, and took a seat, beckoning for Marinette to follow. She sat herself down gingerly, eyes wandering the walls of her apartment.

It felt like they’d taken two steps backwards from this morning.

“Are you thirsty?” Asked Marinette, suddenly. “I’ll make tea.”

Adrien moved to say something, but Marinette had already disappeared into the kitchen, far too soon. He paused, sitting back, and rubbed at a crease he tended to get in between his eyebrows.

Had he said something wrong? But Mari had been in agreement with him about needing to have this talk no more than five minutes ago – what had changed?

“What flavour tea do you want?” Mari called from the kitchen. “I have berry, chamomile, salted caramel…”

“Berry sounds good,” Adrien called back. “Do you need any help?”

“No!” That response came slightly faster, and louder, and was followed by a suspicious crash. “I’m okay!”

“…Okay.” Adrien took the chance to get out his phone, putting it on to charge for the first time since he’d been in her apartment. It was still usable, thanks to the lack of need for it with all the Disney movies, but it gave him something to do with himself whilst he waited.

Several moments later, Marinette entered the room holding two brimming cups of tea. She sat down slowly, handing one to Adrien, and began to blow on hers.

“So…” Adrien begun, placing the tea on the coffee table in her living room. “About last night…”

“Do you want sugar in your tea?” Marinette interrupted. “Milk? I can get both.”

She moved to stand, also placing her mug down, but an arm on her shoulder prohibited the action, and slowly, with Adrien’s guidance, she sank back into the couch. “Mari?” Adrien asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… don’t remember much about last night, and from what I do, I don’t think I want to know.”

Adrien chuckled. “I get that. When you’re that drunk, inhibitions just kind of… go out the window.”

Mari chuckled, albeit awkwardly, tucking a small strand of hair behind her ear. “But… we should talk about it. What exactly did I say?”

“That you were in love me, for all of college.” Adrien let out a soft laugh, hand finding the crick at the back of his neck. “Is it true?”

Marinette seemed to sit for a moment. “Well, yeah. I did have a huge crush on you – I still have your umbrella.”

“Yeah, you told me you did,” Adrien smiled, and Mari returned it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Marinette shrugged. “I could barely get a word out around you. And I was scared, I guess. We were fourteen. And looking back… I kind of idolised you, because I never actually got to know you – you know?”

“Then what changed?”

“We got close right before graduation, after I decided I was being a shitty friend – which I was.” Adrien moved to protest, but Mari held up a hand, stopping him. “You can’t be friends with someone who can’t say more than two words to you per day. And it worked, I guess. But yeah, I was in love with you for like half of my childhood.”

Adrien nodded. “That’s… cool.”

Marinette’s coyness seemed to suddenly catch up with her, and she ducked her head, nodding softly. “And what about you, Mr. Agreste? I spilt my guts – you got any dark secrets for me?”

Adrien paused to think. Other than the glaringly obvious one – ‘I’m Chat Noir and I’ve been saving Paris since I was fourteen!’ – he couldn’t really scrounge up anything.

“I don’t really like my father,” he started off, softly. Marinette snorted.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said. “It’s just – that one was kind of obvious. Nobody likes your father.”

“Yeah, but I’m his son. When I was younger, there was still something there. I ate with him some nights, he cared every now and again… but now, even as I’m studying business to inherit his company, I never see him. I’ve moved out, so I naturally see him less – but he never reaches out.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette offered a warm touch on his shoulder, and Adrien met her eyes, shrugging.

“What can I do? Maybe I should sell his company and open up a tiny bookstore or something.”

“That’s… actually not a bad idea. You’ll have the degree, and the money.”

Adrien scoffed. “No, it’s silly.”

Marinette smiled. “I can’t bake,” she said quietly.

Adrien sat up. “Excuse me?”

Marinette laughed. “You heard me. My parents own a bakery, and yet everything I make comes out horrible. Whenever I want to bake, I go there and collect some ready-made cookie dough or something, so that there are less things to fuck up.”

“Damn,” Adrien smiled. “And here I was, wanting to learn how to bake.”

“Oh, I know all the recipes,” Marinette begun. “I’m just… clumsy, naturally. Something always goes wrong. I’ve had salty cookies more times than I can count – and sometimes I’m not even aware there’s salt in the house.”

Adrien laughed. “Well, if your fashion career flops, and you can’t work in your parent’s bakery, you could always serve tea at my bookstore.”

“I’d like that.”

Adrien nodded, falling silent for a second.

“You seriously can’t bake?” He asked again, grin growing as Marinette picked up a cushion and whacked him with it.

“I told you that in confidence! It’s a sore spot for me.”

“Okay, my turn.” Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh! Puns are my guilty pleasure.”

“…Excuse me?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “Not you too.”

“I’m punstoppable. Hey Mari – how do you put an alien to sleep?”

“I don’t know.”

“You rocket.”

Mari visibly cringed, causing a laugh to bubble up inside Adrien’s chest. “Oh! I have another one. How do you organise a space party?”

Mari sighed, shrugging.

“You planet.”

Marinette gave him a completely blank face, and Adrien cracked up. “Okay, what do you call a pig that takes karate?”

“Oh! I know this one!” Marinette’s face lit up.

“A pork chop!” They cried out in unison, cracking up.

“Okay, your turn. Confessions.” Adrien fixed Mari with a serious look.

“Umm… whenever Jagged Stone is in town, he and his band have dinner at our house, and I’ve never told anyone, because Alya would freak.”

“That’s so cool! If Jagged Stone had dinner with me, I’d video the entire thing and sell it online.”

Marinette smiled, and Adrien stopped laughing to look at her. She met his gaze – and they just sat there, like that, for a second.

“Well, I don’t have any more confessions – or any that would top that,” Adrien pulled back suddenly, getting up. “We should do something else. Play a game.”

“Ultimate Mecha Strike?” Mari offered, still seated. Adrien raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? Because I’ve been practicing – and I’m sure I can beat you.”

“Please, Agreste. Prepare to eat my dust.”

An hour later, and nine games in their entirety, and Marinette had still won every single one of them. Since they hadn’t done much of anything that day, Adrien had a weird amount of energy that kept him from feeling tired – plus his lunch was literally just Marinette’s cookies, and the sugar wasn’t much helping his case.

“Okay, okay, I give up,” he chuckled. “We should do something else – something I can beat you in.”

“Truth or dare.” Marinette said. “Since Alya’s not here, I could so school you.”

“Oh yeah?” Adrien asked. “How do you school someone at truth or dare?”

“You just give them, like… an impossible dare. Or a truth they can’t answer, and a horrible forfeit.”

“Well then I’ll go first.” Adrien took a shallow breath. “Truth or dare, Mari?”

“Truth.”

“What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done?”

Mari blanched. “Really?”

“Really.” Adrien’s eyes narrowed. If he couldn’t beat her in Ultimate Mecha Strike III, he would destroy her in this.

“Okay… I was on a plane to China by myself, and I had gotten up to get a glass of water from the front of the plane, or something. When I got back to my seat, as I was sitting down, there was turbulence, and I spilt all this water over this old Chinese man on accident – and he started yelling at me in Cantonese and the only thing I knew how to say was ‘gong hei fat choy’, which is happy new year, but like apologetically, and he looked at me like I was some abomination for the final four hours of the flight.”

“You knew how to say happy new year but not sorry?” Adrien asked through heaving breaths of laughter.

“Shut up!” Marinette’s cheeks had turned a cute, rosy pink. “I tried my best. And I was, like, twelve.”

“Okay, your turn. I pick truth.”

“Killjoy,” Marinette pouted. “Okay. Ultimate celebrity crush.”

“Ladybug,” Adrien answered without hesitation. Mari’s cheeks somehow got redder.

“Really?” She asked. “Why?”

“Why?” Adrien scoffed. “Because… she’s amazing! She protects Paris every single day, and she’s so strong, and brave, and confident, and beautiful. Paris would have fallen without her.”

“What about Chat Noir?” Mari asked him. “He deserves half the credit.”

“Yeah, but Ladybug purifies the akumas. If it was just Chat, the city would’ve fallen to chaos.”

“And it would’ve fallen to chaos without chat, too! Haven’t you seen their fights. When it’s just Ladybug, she can never defeat the akuma until the two of them are working together. They’re the perfect team! Everyone always does that.”

“Does what?”

“Undermines chat! He’s an amazing superhero too.”

“Is Chat your celebrity crush?” Adrien asked, feeling heat akin to Marinette’s oh his cheeks.

“Well, Captain America is my first celebrity crush. But… yeah. I do like Chat Noir.”

“Wow,” Adrien let out a surprised huff.

“What?” Marinette asked.

“It’s just… I’ve never heard of anyone that’s in love with Chat Noir before. Always been Ladybug.”

“Oh, that is such bull!” Marinette chided. “Chat Noir has it all – the looks, the body, the jokes, the personality… every girl in France is in love with him. And plenty of guys, if he ever wanted to explore that side.”

Adrien’s face heated. “Well, I think Ladybug’s the same. She’s… perfect.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Adrien. But the two of them… I bet they’re pretty close.”

Adrien nodded, softly. “Well I’m sure Chat Noir would appreciate your praise. But I’m getting tired – I’m going to change into the pyjamas I brought, and then we can… watch something?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Marinette nodded. “I’ll look for movies?”

Adrien nodded, picking up his bag and heading to the bathroom. The moment he closed the door, Plagg flew out from his pocket, pinching his cheek.

“I’m hungry,” Plagg complained in a special way that only Plagg could. Adrien winced, putting a hand to his cheek.

“Oww!” Adrien whispered, hand moving to cover his cheek. “Don’t worry. I got you camembert when I went to my apartment. And I thought you only had to recharge when we were in Chat Noir form.”

“Well I was exerting so much energy being bored by you and your mundane conversation that I need camembert to cope. An entire wheel, if possible.”

Adrien sighed, digging out a wheel of the stinky cheese. “You know, Marinette thinks it’s my favourite now? She’ll get it for me whenever I eat over with her or something. And now all my clothes smell.”

“At least they smell good!” Plagg defended.

“What? No, they don’t. That is literally the problem right now.”

Plagg sighed. “Well I should at least get to smell camembert at all times if you’re going to be flirting with your girlfriend for the next week.”

“I am not- she’s not my girlfriend. We’re not flirting.”

“Really?” Plagg asked. “But I was pretty close to your heart, and it definitely sped up when you were around her.”

“Oh… shut up, Plagg. I’m getting changed, and I’m ignoring you.” He slipped into his pyjamas – a Ladybug top that he was sure Marinette would appreciate, and a pair of plaid trousers. He folded his old clothes out of habit, and leant into the bathroom mirror to fix his hair.

“What are you doing?” Plagg asked. “I thought she was ‘just a friend.’”

“Doesn’t mean my hair has to look messy for her. If I want to look good, I can look good. Get off my case.” Adrien groaned at Plagg, swatting the kwami away unsuccessfully to continue brushing his fingers through his hair.

A bang outside the door interrupted, and Adrien’s back straightened. “Marinette?” He asked, cautiously. “Was that you? Are you okay?”

No response. Adrien shared a confused look with Plagg, who immediately flew into his pocket as Adrien left the bathroom.

A shiver immediately rippled through him. Marinette wasn’t there, but since he’d been in the bathroom, the window had been opened, and cold air had begun to seep into the room.

“Mari?” Adrien asked. “Are you grabbing a DVD? Where are you?”

He poked his head into her room – nothing.

“I’ll call her,” he reasoned, reaching for the phone that was still charging on the coffee table. But on its screen, an akuma attack alert had come in a couple of minutes ago.

An akuma attack nearby. An open window in the middle of a cold October. And Marinette, nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4! Thoughts? Comments? I'm going to be honest, this one was... different to write, but I'm excited about it. Plot picks up next chapter! And don't forget to leave kudos!


	5. Akuma Attacks and Worried Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An akuma leaves Adrien worried for Mari - who has a weird scuff of dirt on her cheek that wasn't there before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I wrote this in my biology lesson?

As Marinette had grown up, akuma attacks had gotten lesser and lesser – and, seemingly, more and more desperate. Hawkmoth prayed on negative feelings; fact. But people were either getting angry or upset over sillier things, or her and Chat Noir were just getting used to it.

  
“My name is Mitosis!” The villain declared from the top of the Eiffel tower. “Ladybug and Chat Noir, give me your miraculous!”

  
“As always,” she sighed, opening her yoyo to call Chat. Where was he?

  
“Good evening, M’Lady,” Chat landed behind her on the rooftop with impeccable timing. “What are we dealing with?”

  
“My guess is a biology teacher gone rogue. I’m not quite sure yet – haven’t had the chance to get up close.”

  
“Aww, you were waiting for me? How romantic! I guess you could say… we’re alloys in this fight.” Chat swooned.

  
“Silly kitty,” Mari sighed behind the mask, a small smile on her face. “Let’s get this over with – I’ve got a friend waiting for me.”

  
“What a coincidence! Me too.”

  
Ladybug’s eyebrows drew together, but before she could respond, Chat had extended his baton to fly towards the villain. With a soft sigh, she followed, until they were on the Eiffel tower.

  
It seemed Mitosis worked in a similar way to Evillustrator; draw something, and it would come to life. So the akuma was either in the whiteboard, or her pen.

  
“Lucky Charm!” Marinette yelled, as Chat defended her from the literal formulas flying at them. “I have… a frisbee?”

  
“Look out!” Chat called, and Ladybug looked up to see something coming her way. She ducked, and it flew over her, grazing her cheek slightly. Extending her yoyo, she flew to another rooftop to regroup for a second.  
Her hand raised to touch her cheek. When she pulled back, there was specks of blood on her suit.

  
Not that the cure wouldn’t fix it. It fixed most of everything – it was only when she or Chat had a particularly bad hit that they’d be left feeling it – and seeing it – the next day. Made it kind of hard to pick what to wear, especially in summer.

  
“What’s stomata, My Lady?” Chat landed next to her, and she sighed, looking back to the frisbee.

  
The idea that came to her mind was, for some reason, glaringly simple. “Are you any good at frisbee, Chaton?”

  
A moment later, and Chat was in position behind Mitosis. “Mitosis!” Ladybug called. “I’m not very good at biology, but I can tell that you hurting people isn’t natural!”

  
From afar, she felt a certain Chat cringe. Well they couldn’t both be good at puns!

  
Mitosis was flying at her, already having drawn a weapon. Ladybug fought her off, and continued the hand-to-hand combat.

  
“Chat?” She called. “Any time now!”

  
Suddenly, a frisbee hit Mitosis’ hand, causing her to drop the pen, which ladybug very quickly grabbed and threw over to Chat, who cataclysmed it. She quickly purified the akuma, and flew over to Chat, where they bumped fists.

  
“I should go – I’m about to detransform. Do you mind?” She gestured over to the confused biology teacher, who was looking at Ladybug and her partner - awestruck. 

  
Something in Chat seemed to hesitate – but Ladybug’s earrings letting out their last beep pushed it away. “Anything for you, My Lady. I’ve never been good at biology, but we've got enough chemistry to get through anything.”

  
Marinette sighed, and swung over to an alleyway, where she detransformed, feeding Tikki a cookie hastily.

  
“Do you think Adrien’s noticed I’m gone?” She asked to the munching kwami.

  
“He probably thinks you got wrapped up in the akuma, Marinette. I wouldn’t worry – you should just get home.”

  
She nodded, letting Tikki fly into the collar of her shirt, and walked out of the alleyway. She’d picked one to be conveniently near her apartment – she didn’t really feel like walking alone, in her pyjamas, at night every time there was an akuma attack. 

  
What she didn’t account for is that her apartment door was locked. Of course. She’d transformed and flown out as Ladybug without even thinking about grabbing a key – and now she was locked outside.

  
“Umm, Adrien?” She asked sheepishly, knocking on the door softly. “It’s Mari. Can you open the door?”

  
Silence. Damn. Had Adrien been captured by the akuma, and he was just walking back home.

  
Marinette sighed, turning her back to the door and leaning against it, sliding down slowly until she was seated like something out of a teen movie. She could think about this – she was her own voice of reason. Alya had a spare key, but she was with Nino. Her parents had a spare key, but they always freaked out when she told them she’d been near an akuma attack. Her window was wide open.

  
_Her window was wide open_. It was simple – sort of. She could climb in and pretend everything was fine and-

A thud from inside her apartment had her pausing, and Mari turned her head just as a light flashed quickly. Weird. Had someone turned the lights off and on again?

She stood, slowly, knocking again. “Adrien?” She said. “Can you open the door? I’m locked out.”

The door opened just as she was about to knock for a second time, and a bewildered Adrien, hair sticking out from all ends, greeted her. Her hand lowered, slowly, and she smiled in an attempt to ease her embarrassment.

“There was an akuma,” she began. “I was opening the window, and it flew past, and-“

Adrien stopped her by wrapping his arms around her tightly – in a weird, unconventional sort of hug. Mari froze. Sure, they’d hugged before, but Adrien seemed to want to squeeze all the air out of her and then some.

  
“Umm… not that this isn’t nice, but… what is it for, exactly?” She wheezed. Adrien seemed to come to some form of realization, because he let up enough to allow her to inhale, but not enough for her to move her arms from their entrapment between his.

  
He was just… taller than she was. Bigger. She couldn’t lie that she didn’t like that – subconsciously, that was one of the reasons that she liked people. (Not that anyone was really any smaller than she was – at 21, she stood a proud 5 foot 2, and still got ID’d even though the drinking age was 18.)

  
“Sorry,” Adrien mumbled into her hair, not sounding particularly sorry at all. “It’s just... I came out of the bathroom, and you weren’t there, and then I found out that there was an akuma attack and... God, Mari. You can’t do that to me.”

  
Marinette really liked to think that she was over Adrien, but in this moment, being held in his arms in the way she’d literally dreamt about, she soon found out that the feelings were still there, and could very much come out to the surface and make themselves known. “I’m okay,” she mumbled, hand coming up as far as it could to pat Adrien’s lower back in what she could only hope was a comforting gesture. He pulled her tighter, for a second, before drawing away.

  
“I’m glad,” he said earnestly. “I know that Ladybug and Chat Noir are on the job, but... I don’t know what I would do if I lost someone close to me – especially you.”

  
Marinette nodded, trying not to meet his eyes. If she’d ever said his gaze wasn’t intense, she could very much verify it now. But apparently she was tired, because whilst playing the game of ‘let’s not meet Adrien’s eyes’, she proceeded to let out possibly the longest yawn ever.

  
And yawns, as she so recalled, were not very attractive – especially when someone was literally a foot and a half across from you. It served as a kind of icebreaker, though; Adrien began chucking, and the awkwardness that she had previously felt was now gone.

  
“Tired?” Adrien asked. Mari nodded. “You’d think after all that napping, you’d want to stay awake all night.”

  
Civilian Marinette could not argue with that logic, but crime-fighting Ladybug certainly could. Instead of giving a definitive answer, she just shrugged, letting out another yawn.

  
“If you want to sleep, you can just tell me. I can get the couch ready.”

  
Marinette nodded, and Adrien moved out of the doorframe so she could shuffle to her room. “Adrien?” She asked just before disappearing behind the door and into her room. “Goodnight.”

  
Adrien nodded. “Sweet dreams, Mari."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the general reckless bitch that really should write the next chapter in advance, but ends up writing like a quarter of it before and slams the rest into the keyboard on the morning of the deadline. But here you go!
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos, and comment on what you liked/think will happen next!


	6. Feelings and Suit-Ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien leaves Mari's house confused about his feelings, and has a chat with Nino. Later, a black cat shows up on Marinette's balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now my search history is literally 'cat puns'. The things I do for fanfiction.

The next morning, Adrien left early. He awoke once, in the night, a silent scream in his throat, reaching out for the girl that was only in the bedroom down the hall, stomach churning with a feeling akin to guilt. She’d ben gone, and he’d been forced to ignore her absence – play ignorant with His Lady, and take the teacher all the way home – only to detransform and find that, for a second, Marinette was not there.

The knock on the door scared him to death. But Marinette’s voice filtered through the cracks, a mere moment later, unafraid and slightly raspy and completely _safe _– and he felt like he could pass out from relief alone.

Of course, he didn’t – and now he was in a park, on a very cold Sunday morning, waiting for the all-clear text from Nino, so he could enter his apartment without seeing something that would scar him, mentally, for life. He’d been playing a game on his phone – a cooking game where you had to make, like 100 burgers for 100 customers in 5 minutes – but after four ‘Level Failed’ notifications, and one ‘Low Battery’ warning, he didn’t really feel like it anymore. Instead, he browsed Instagram with frozen fingertips.

Everywhere he turned, Marinette’s face greeted him. People had an apparent affinity for taking surprisingly flattering photos of the birthday girl herself, and posting group photo, or a mirror selfie (one could always count on Alya for about a hundred of those every time they went out.)

“Plagg?” Adrien said softly, looking at the girl’s smiling face on his phone screen, voice hoarse in the early morning.

“What?” The kwami responded.

“Do you like Marinette?”

Plagg scoffed. “Of course I do. She gave me camembert – what more do you need in a woman?”

Adrien stayed silent – hand running through his hair and landing on the back of his neck.

“Oh,” Plagg started. “I know what’s happening. You asked me a question, but you don’t actually care about my answer – you’re just having your own existential crisis, and you’re fishing for advice.”

“Yes, Plagg.” Plagg imitated Adrien’s voice with a higher-than-natural pitch and a flourish of what could be called his arm. “You’re absolutely right. I, Adrien Agreste, need the advice of the most handsome, most wise, most well-renowned God that I know-“

“Plagg?” Adrien asked again. “Do _I _like Marinette?”

The kwami did his best impression of a ‘duh’ face. “What do you mean?” He flew to Adrien’s shoulder.

“Do I romantically like her? Could I go out with her?”

“Well, I don’t know. Could you?”

“I don’t know… I think so.”

His phone screen lit up with an incoming notification, and His Lady’s photo filled his background, looking as strong and perfect as ever.

“Am I betraying Ladybug? I still love her.”

“But you aren’t dating her – so how could you be betraying her?”

“I don’t know.” Adrien picked up the phone, seeing the message was from Nino.

**N: All good. Alya’s on the way home. Thanks for letting us have yesterday.**

**A: On my way now.**

The walk to his apartment – walks anywhere, really – usually brought him some form of clarity; but not this time. The hanging his head off the side of his bed so that blood could rush to his brain (he knew it didn’t work, but still…) didn’t help much either. Nor did the annoying black cat kwami that flew around his head, asking for camembert incessantly.

“Plagg!” Adrien cracked, hissing at the mini-God. “Please, just shut up! I’ve got important things to think about!”

“Uh, Adrien?” Nino called from outside his room. “Who are you talking to.”

“Nobody!” He responded, and then, a second later, “Myself!”

“Oh,” came Nino’s response. “Well, do you want to talk about it with me?”

Adrien’s head lifted from off the side of the bed. “Uh… okay.”

Nino opened the door, and only raised an eyebrow at his best friend’s antics. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.” Adrien righted himself quickly. “It helps me think.”

“Whatever floats you boat, dude.” Nino took a seat next to the still upside-down Adrien as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “So what’s up?”

“Mari,” Adrien said simply. “I… I can’t figure her out. She said she liked me – which makes sense – but she said it in the past tense. Are we totally platonic? Do I like her back?”

Nino let out a short sigh. “Everyone knew Mari liked you except you. But over the past few years, she’s kind of… pushed her feelings aside to be friends with you. I honestly don’t know if she still has romantic feelings for you. Even if I did know, Alya would probably kill me if I ever told you.”

Adrien smiled softly. “But… how did I not realize?”

“Your only experience with love was fangirls grabbing at your arms, and a certain Chloe Bourgeois throwing herself all over you. You weren’t exactly in a position to recognise actual feelings.”

Adrien was starting to get dizzy – so he lifted his head and twisted his body so he was lying on his back, on the bed. “And what about me liking her?”

“That’s not my question to answer, dude.”

“But… how do I know? How did you know with Alya?”

“Well…” Nino paused, putting a hand to his chin like some wise old man. “It’s kind of like you always want to spend time with them, and when you think of someone, they’re the first person that springs to mind. And you can see yourself going on dates with them, and living with them…”

“Okay.” Adrien closed his eyes, picturing the past few days. Mari was all that had been on his mind – her words from Friday night haunted him (although, not in a bad way) and every time his mind drifted off, she was in the picture somewhere.

“Holy shit.” He finally declared. “I think I like Marinette.”

“That’s great!” Nino said back, shifting to smile at his friend. “Right?”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed together. “But she said she liked me. Like, doesn’t anymore kind of liked me. How do I know if she still does?”

“Ask. Spend time with her. I don’t know about you, but once you’ve liked someone, there’s a certain spark for a while, even after you stop acknowledging your crush.”

“I… I’ll talk to her tomorrow. On Monday. At school.”

“You don’t have school tomorrow, idiot. It’s a holiday. But I bet two girls would be very happy to hang out with their dashingly handsome friends…”

Adrien nodded. “Okay. We just… need a game plan.”

Two hours later, Adrien had talked through the entire day with Nino – a movie, then a picnic in which it was the perfect weather to snuggle up to someone significant – and the girls had both agreed. He’d picked out his outfit (not that he had much choice – the Agreste’s way of dressing had been hammered into him, and every item of clothing he wore was meant to go with something else.

But he was restless. He’d tried homework – no luck. It was no surprise studying didn’t bring results either. Not even Ultimate Mecha Strike could keep his hands from fidgeting, and his feet from tapping.

Plagg, from his cheese drawer across the room, was looking at him dully. “What?” Adrien asked. “I’m nervous.”

“For what? You were an oblivious idiot not too long ago – go back to that. I preferred that.”

“Oh, shut it, Plagg. Maybe I should take Chat Noir out for a daytime tour of Paris.”

“At least then you could see the girl you like, and get over your stupid human nerves.” Plagg mumbled under his breath.

Adrien blinked. “That’s… actually not that bad of an idea.”

Plagg looked up from where he was devouring a slice of camembert. “No, please, don’t take me from my cheese yet.”

“Plagg, claws out!” Adrien called, and the complaining Kwami was sucked into his ring.

Mari’s house was a ten-minute walk, but as Chat, with superpowers, he did it in two (not to brag, though – of course not.) Marinette’s balcony, even though a different one, still came in very handy for when he wanted to visit.

Over the past couple of years, Chat and Marinette had gotten closer. As Adrien, he’d been worried for a long time that Mari would get akumatised over something Lila did – so he came one night to check if she was okay, and she offered him cookies, tea, a warm blanket and a bout of small talk (which was much more than he’d ever talked with Marinette in his civilian form) – and he’d promised he’d come back soon.

Landing on the balcony, he saw Marinette jump through her window and look up at him, the shock instantly replaced with a warm smile that he now knew she reserved for her close friends. He grinned back, and she slid the window open, inviting him in.

“It’s cold, Chat. Come inside.”

Strange. Out of all the times he’d been to her house as Chat, he’d never been inside. It had always been the opposite – she climbed out with supplies, and they built a fort under the invisible stars of the inky night sky.

He obeyed, though, and wasn’t shocked to see the pink walls he’d been in mere hours before. “Working, Princess?” He asked, gesturing to the piece of fabric in the sewing machine.

“Trying to.” She smiled. “This one isn’t really for anything, though. I’m just trying to process some feelings.”

“Yeah?” He took a seat on her bed, and she followed. “Want to share? I’ve been told my listening skills are fur-midable.”

She opened her mouth, as if to reprimand him, but closed it a second later. “I had this friend of mine over,” she started. “It was my birthday on Friday, and he stayed for all of yesterday, but was gone without a note or a text or anything this morning. And I get that he doesn’t owe me anything – but the thing is, on Friday night, I confessed that I had a massive crush on him in school – which I did – but I think I may have freaked him out.”

Guilt gnawed at Adrien’s stomach. “Wow,” he said. “Sounds like a claw-ful situation.”

Marinette’s bluebell eyes met his, and earnest worry was all he could see. “I’m worried, because he’s one of my closest friends – and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“What if… what if he just needs some time to think?” Adrien suggested. “Purr-haps he likes you back.”

Marinette scoffed. “Unlikely. This guy… he could get any girl he wanted, if he just clicked his fingers. I’m not the most likely choice.”

“No, Princess! You’re beautiful – anyone who can’t see that is delusional.”

“Thanks, Chat.” She smiled at him. “But that’s enough with me. How are you? You haven’t shown up in a while.”

“Oh, you know… civilian stuff. I have missed you though, Purr-incess.”

“I’ve missed you too, Chat.” Mari smiled, getting off the bed. “Oh! I just made cookies. Well, I put ready-made cookie dough in the oven, and took it out an hour later. Do you want some? We could watch something on TV.”

“Don’t you have things to do? I can leave if I’m bothering you.”

Marinette turned to face him, and frowned. Her hands reached out, squishing his cheeks together and holding him in place for her beautiful blue eyes to bore into his.

“You are never a burden to me. I like being around you. Besides, I wasn’t getting anything productive done anyway.”

Adrien nodded as best he could through the hold, and a satisfied Marinette let go of his cheeks, leaving the room. As she shut the door behind her, his hand reached up to his cheek.

She was so… close to him. It did weird things to his stomach – and to his lungs, and to his heart.

If he wasn’t sure about his feelings before, he sure was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was going to get this chapter out on time - but here it is! I love reading comments, so let me know what you thought! And don't forget to leave kudos!


	7. Photoshoots and Text-book Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette gets a bit stressed, a certain kitty makes a more significant entrance, and the walking-out issue is discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at replying to comments, so I did them all in one go - everyone who's ever left kudos/comments, I see you and I love you! Thank you so much for reading!!!

Marinette was stressed.

Most of the time, she had a handle on what she needed to do. She got this really handy app a while ago, where it’s basically a planner, but it notifies you at the time that you set it for (she usually sets it for the time she knows she is going to get home, so she can guilt trip herself into actually doing the work.)

But somehow, after dismissing the notice four times, she’d completely forgotten that she’d been tweeting for a month that she was going to release new merchandise – Chat Noir merchandise, following the very successful extended Ladybug clothing line. Her twitter had gathered quite a following (considering she knew both Jagged Stone and Adrien Agreste, people were very good at internet stalking) – and she had been getting tagged in posts all over that she didn’t even think to check until now.

It was Sunday. She had all the female photos sorted – Juleka had come over a week or so ago and taken photos in everything. Accessories were fine. But there were a couple of items that she had completely forgotten.

Chat Noir himself was sitting on her bed, several feet away, eating from a bag of popcorn (the heathen) and watching something or other on her laptop. She looked at him longingly, trying to convey every inch of her desperation into one panicked laser.

It worked. Chat looked up. “What is it, Princess?”

“I am screwed, Chat.” She said. “Totally ruined. What little fans I have will hate me forever. I had one job.”

“Woah, woah,” he got up, dusting crumbs off his leather-clad chest and walking over to her. “What do you mean? What’s wrong? Can I help?”

Marinette’s eyebrows drew together, and heat crept up her neck, slowly. “It’s embarrassing, Chat.” And it was. What was she supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’m supposed to be launching a bunch of clothes based on you, but I forgot, and now my life is ruined?’

“I don’t care. It probably isn’t as bad as you think. What’s the problem?”

“I was supposed to be putting new stuff on the boutique, but I forgot to take photos of the men’s part of it, and so I won’t be able to get it up by tomorrow.”

Chat paused to think, a claw coming up to scratch at the hair at the nape of his neck. “Well, why don’t you just invite a bunch of guys over that can model for you?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “I don’t- models? My friends?” How could she do that to her friends?

“Yeah. They won’t mind. Everyone likes saving a damsel in distress, Princess.”

“Well this damsel is just a little bit over her head. She doesn’t need saving.”

“Yeah, whatever. Who could you call?”

Marinette bit her lip, opening her contacts. Who could she call?

“Luka?” She wandered aloud. “He’s modelled some of my stuff before. If he’s not with Kitty Section, he might not mind doing it.”

Chat nodded. “Who else?”

“Nathaniel?” Her mind jumped. “And Marc! Marc always likes modelling my stuff, because I let him take it home afterwards if it fits.”

“Anybody else?” Chat prompted. Marinette hesitated.

Displayed in her contacts, right at the top, was Adrien Agreste. The obvious choice. She knew if she called, he wouldn’t mind – he’d probably be back here within the hour. He’d get it done the fastest, considering he was the actual model of the bunch – but she was still scared that she’d really weirded him out considering he’d left without any explanation, leaving her alone this morning until Chat showed up.

“Adrien’s probably busy,” she concluded. “He wouldn’t want to be bothered.”

“But-“ Chat started to protest, but Marinette had already dialled Luka, and was holding out a hand to get him to stop.

“Luka?” She asked, an unaware smile blooming. “Hey! I was wondering; are you free today?”

Forty minutes later, and the three guys (plus Mari and Chat Noir) were standing in her bedroom, where she’d set up a back drop. Marinette had divided the pieces up into three even piles (Luka got the tops because he was usually too tall for the trousers, Marc got whichever pieces he picked, and Nathaniel was too lovestruck to pick what he wanted to model, so ended up with everything else.) Luka was a natural, Marinette found – something in him oozed charisma, probably from what he’d learnt as a stage presence whilst in Kitty Section.

“You didn’t tell me these were clothes based on me,” Chat Noir whispered in Marinette’s ear, causing her to almost drop her camera whilst taking a photograph of Luka.

“Shut up, kitty.” She said, trying her best to ignore him. “You would’ve gotten cocky.”

“You are absolutely right. I would get cocky. These are great, Princess, but… don’t you think they’d look better on who they were based off of?”

Marinette paused her photo-taking, and looked up at the large kitten next to her. Luka took it as a cue to go change into the next t-shirt, and Marc entered the frame. “Stop assuming things,” she sighed, trying to play off the slight blush in her cheeks by moving to start taking photos of Marc. “Could you lift your arm a bit more – yes, perfect. Okay. How about sitting down?”

“Assuming things?” He asked. “Princess, you’re not making any sense.”

“Chat…” she lowered the camera, letting out a groan of frustration. “If you wore any of this, it would look weird, because you’re wearing all black already, and your suit would make it a weird shape. Order it as your civilian self if you want to wear it so bad.”

“But this was all because of me… right?”

Marinette sighed. “Make yourself useful. Offer our guests some snacks.”

It really didn’t take long to get all the photos done, and soon Marinette was eating lunch with her four guests whilst waiting for all the photos to transfer onto her computer. “I really can’t thank you guys enough,” she said with a warm smile.

“It’s really no problem,” Nathaniel chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re happy to help!”

Marinette nodded, and her eyes fell onto Chat, who wasn’t eating, just looking at her kind of funny. “What is it?”

“Do you…” he sighed. “Do you have any cheese?”

She fixed him with a confused look. “Cheese?”

“Camembert, blue cheese, swiss cheese… anything will do, really. It’s just… staying in the suit for such a long time really puts a strain on my kwami, and cheese is the food that kind of… restores it, if that makes sense.”

“Oh!” Marinette, by this point, was very good at faking ignorance. “I probably have some camembert still. That’s weird – nobody ever likes it, but you’re the second person that has asked me for it in the past 24 hours…”

“Oh?” Chat’s voice was panicked. “Isn’t that funny! What a coincidence! Ha ha…”

Mari raised an eyebrow at him, before heading to the kitchen to grab whatever cheese she could find. On her way back, Marc and Nathaniel excused themselves with warm hugs and thanks for the gifts of clothes. Chat took his cheese, and disappeared into the bathroom – leaving Marinette and Luka.

“Do you like Chat Noir?” Luka asked as if he were asking her what she thought of the weather.

“I- I-“

Luka’s expression warmed slightly. “I thought so, Marinette.”

“I don’t like Chat like that,” she explained. “But, Luka-“

“I know. And I promised I’m over you, which I am. I’m just curious. Before we dated, we were good friends. You told me everything. I want that back.”

“Me too, Luka.” Marinette said honestly. “And I’m telling you – Chat Noir is just a friend.”

Luka shrugged. “He just seems… very friendly. The type of friendly that you get when you want to go out with someone.”

Marinette shook her head with a disapproving smile, and Chat chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. “What did I miss?” He asked in his normal, easy-going nature.

“I should go as well,” said Luka, standing. “Thank you for the food. And it was fun getting to model for you. Call me if you ever want someone to do it again. I’ll see you around, Marinette.” He spared a glance at Chat. “And it was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Chat smiled, although something in it felt strained. Luka offered one last wave before exiting the apartment.

“Okay,” said Marinette, getting up and moving to her laptop. “Now all I have to do is format the photos on the page, and then wait for it to go live, and, hopefully, do well.”

“It will do well,” Chat promised, continuing to eat the sandwiches she’d provided.

“And how do you know?”

“Because people love Chat Noir’s style, and people love your clothes. Talent always attracts, Princess. Everything will be fine.”

She sighed, and nodded. “I trust you. I just hope you’re right.”

Chat smiled comfortingly, and Marinette knew he meant what he was saying – he wore his heart on his leather sleeve. “Don’t mind me – get to work. I’ll be enjoying my sandwich.”

This provoked an almost-laugh from her, and she shook her head, returning to the boutique’s website. “Silly kitty,” she said under her breath.

Marinette didn’t know how, but she worked for two solid hours before her eyes hurt too much to look at a screen any longer. Her bottom lip was red raw with how she’d been biting at it subconsciously, and her fingers were stiff, and not proving very good at rubbing the tension from her temples and her back.

“Need a break, Princess?” Chat’s voice made her jump through her skin, and a hand immediately found her chest, as if to try and calm her beating heart.

“I… do you want to get ice cream or something?” She asked. “I’m craving it, and I think I need to get out of the house.”

“It’s a bit cold for ice cream, princess.”

“Guess I’ll have to dress up extra warm,” she shrugged, standing up. “Do you want to borrow a coat?”

\--

Chat had to leave – something about a patrol (of which she knew he didn’t have) – ten minutes into their ice cream stroll, leaving Mari to walk to her apartment alone. She’d brought mittens, which were surprisingly good at holding ice cream cones, but not very good at trying to get your phone out of your zipped coat pocket when it buzzed.

She ended up having to use her teeth to take one mitten off, to unlock her phone (which was gross, considering there was now a bunch of fluff in her mouth) and see that there was a text from Adrien.

**A: Hey. I’m sorry I left without saying anything today.**

Marinette tilted her head, looking at the phone suspiciously. How did he know that she was thinking about that?

**A: I didn’t want to intrude on your weekend, and Nino texted me that Alya had gone, so I left. But I should’ve written a note, or something.**

**A: I’m sorry.**

**M: I always thought you were a psychic…**

**A: Wait really? I’m so sorry, Mari.**

**M: No it’s okay!!! Don’t feel bad. And you weren’t intruding on my weekend, by the way.**

**A: ??**

**M: I like your company, Adrien.**

**A: Oh.**

**A: Well I like your company too, Marinette.**

Marinette smiled around the mitten in her mouth. He was sweet, through all of this. She should’ve known it was something like this – Adrien was weirdly stingy about intruding on others. Something he probably learnt whilst growing up, but something she wanted to hug out of him all the same.

**M: Don’t miss me too much. You’ll have to see me tomorrow.**

**A: Haha, I look forwards to it.**

**M: Look forwards to school?**

**M: I always knew you were strange.**

**A: What can I say? Anything with you is great, Marinette.**

Marinette told herself the blush on her cheeks was from the cold. She managed to hold her phone in the crook of her neck for a second, to free her mouth of the mitten and as much fluff as she could grab, before picking it back up.

**A: Haha that sounded cheesy.**

**A: I mean it, though.**

**A: Marinette?**

**M: Sorry. Got held up with something.**

**M: You’re too sweet, you know that?**

**A: Like sugar ;)**

Marinette rolled her eyes.

**M: I have to go. I’ll see you around.**

Switching off her phone, Marinette took a bite out of her ice cream without thinking – before cringing at the freeze of her front teeth.

And somewhere on a nearby rooftop, a cat stood, watching fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the cheese out of the way in the other notes, hi! I feel like over text I come off as an overexcited 12 year old, but I promise I'm not :)
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and a comment! Tell me what you thought!


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